Chapter 5

Shasha was stunned.

After a long while, she handed me the dress and said softly, “It doesn’t make any difference, Xiaoxia.”

Yes.

What difference does it make?

She sat with me on the mountain for a long time.

Dark clouds drifted by.

The bright moon waxed and waned, waned and waxed.

My mother’s anxious calls echoed from the foot of the mountain.

Shasha stood up, patted the dirt off her clothes, and smiled at me against the light:

“I was wrong.

“There is a difference after all.

“At least if you go missing, your mother will come looking for you.”

The next day, I wore the pink dress Shasha gave me to meet Daya and the others.

They were all shocked and stopped calling me Brother Xia.

But I didn’t expect that, that evening when everyone was cooling off by the pond, Aunt Zhao spoke up with a strange tone:

“Xiaoxia, why aren’t you wearing the dress Shasha bought for you?

“Honghua, your daughter is something else, so capable at such a young age.

“I’ve raised Shasha for over ten years and never seen her sew a single thing for me, but for Xiaoxia’s tenth birthday, she actually stole money to buy her a dress.

“Your girl is sure to dig up big money in the future!”

The villagers looked at me, voices rising in discussion.

“I saw Xiaoxia wearing a new dress today.”

“The little girl is just a kid and already knows how to ask for things. What will she be like when she grows up!”

“Shasha always seemed so quiet, who knew she’d steal money…”

“A foundling-who knows what kind of people her real parents were.”

…

My ears rang loudly, and I shouted back, “She didn’t steal money! She’s not that kind of person!”

At the same time, Shasha’s voice rang out behind me: “It wasn’t Xiaoxia who asked me for it. I picked honeysuckle and gathered tea seeds to save up money and buy it for her.”

She wore a worn-out short-sleeved shirt, her exposed skin covered in bruises and cuts.

She limped as she walked.

Clearly, she’d been beaten earlier.

Seeing her defend me, Aunt Zhao grew angrier: “What do you mean, your money?

“You eat my food and drink my water-your money is my money. If you want to touch even a penny, you have to get my permission.”

She grabbed a plastic sandal and slapped Shasha across the face with a “swish.”

The blow made Shasha stagger, nearly falling to the ground.

The other women stepped in to break it up, but Aunt Zhao kept cursing: “Little bastard, little bitch, I’ve fed you and clothed you all these years, and you’re still an ungrateful wolf…”

The moonlight was dim. Shasha leaned against a camphor tree by the roadside, head bowed, silent.

She was about to break.

So was I.

My mother yanked me away and shouted:

“Who told you to take things from others?

“Do I not feed you enough, or clothe you enough?

“Where’s the dress? Come home with me and get it.”